


Kiss Kiss Hex Hex

by innerslytherin



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerslytherin/pseuds/innerslytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You want to know how Voldemort was really taken down? Yeah, I had something to do with it. And I don't mind telling you, if you're really interested. If you're just here for a look at the werewolf and his Dark wizard, you can sod right off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Kiss Hex Hex

**Author's Note:**

> This was a rabid plot bunny that got out of hand.  The inspiration for the narrative voice, as well as the title, come from the enjoyable movie _Kiss Kiss Bang Bang_.  The bad language and gay jokes are a direct result of said narrative voice &amp; movie.  NOT my usual fare. Thanks to [](http://users.livejournal.com/_lore/profile)[**_lore**](http://users.livejournal.com/_lore/) and [](http://thesnapelyone.livejournal.com/profile)[**thesnapelyone**](http://thesnapelyone.livejournal.com/) for fast betas.

"Fuck, Lupin!"  Snape pushed me back against the wall, grinding into me.  His cock was hard, pressed into my thigh, and mine was responding nicely.  I grabbed him, kissing him hard, and--

Wait, that's not the place to start.  Let me back up.

 

Snape was staring at me as I rolled Alecto Carrow's corpse off of me.  "I know what you're thinking," I snarled, glaring defensively back at him.  "Bodies don't normally get me hard or anything.  But face it, I'm a Dark creature, Snape.  _Danger_ gets me hard."

An odd gleam came into his eyes--

 

Ah, fuck!  That's still too late in the story.  Hold on.  I'm new at this whole "telling my life story" thing.  No one's ever cared before, frankly, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm still cynical enough to think you'll probably decide at the end that I'm still just a Dark creature shagging a Dark wizard, and we both ought to be thrown into Azkaban, never mind that the Dementors are long gone and the wizard guards there have already proven they can't hold a Marauder if he wants out.

Anyway.  Where was I?

Oh!  Telling you my life story.  Well, you're not really interested in the whole thing, are you?  I mean, I was bit by a werewolf when I was six, I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I had three best friends and a bloke I fancied from afar in the whole star-crossed lovers sort of way.  My best friends were eventually murdered by a egomaniacal sociopath who wanted to take over the world, and only their baby boy survived.  I wandered the Earth for a dozen years, fucking random dark-haired strangers who didn't speak English and generally getting by however I could, whether it involved running small-time scams on superstitious villagers or staking vampires or exorcising spirits.  I suppose it's all interesting in an edgy sort of way, but you're only here for the really sordid parts of my life, right?

Well, we'll start with the year Sirius escaped Azkaban.  I think that's back far enough.  And we'll sort of skim over the first parts, because honestly you're not going to care too much about the years between that happening and Dumbledore's murder, are you?

Oh, come on, I'm not spoiling the story by saying Dumbledore was murdered.  Everyone knows about that.  They even know it was that lying bastard Snape who did it.  Yes, _that_ Snape, the one frotting up against me earlier.  We fucked, by the way.  Still are, for that matter.  Fucking, I mean.  So if that bothers you--

All right, all right, I'm getting on with it.

So anyway.  Where was I?

Oh, right!  Azkaban.

Well, the whole Wizarding world knows Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban for the murders of James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew.  You probably don't know any differently, despite the way things played out a few years back.  So I'll start by setting the record straight on that one.  Sirius Black didn't murder them.  Peter Pettigrew did.  Well, Peter actually just told Voldemort where to find James and Lily.  Voldemort did the actual killing, but as far as I'm concerned, Peter is the one responsible for their murders.  That's why I killed him as soon as I got the chance.

Oh, don't look so shocked.  You knew within the first thirty seconds that I wasn't exactly Mr. Nice Guy.  I'm only stodgy English stiff-upper-lip bloke around the sprogs--sort of had to be, especially when I was the first werewolf to make it nearly thirty years in the closet, so to speak.  No one ever suspects the quiet ones.

Anyway.  Dumbledore asked me to teach at the school that year, sort of as an extra pair of eyes on Harry--the Potter boy, you know, The Boy Who Lived?--and sort of because he rather thought Sirius might ask me for help, and Dumbledore could use me to trap Sirius and send him back to Azkaban.  I know, manipulative old bastard, wasn't he?  No one ever realised what a Slytherin he could be.  Didn't work, though.  For one thing I wanted to kill Sirius almost as much as Snape did.  For another, Sirius knew I'd want to kill him.  He didn't dare ask me for help.  He managed to get to Peter with virtually no help at all.

I cocked everything up by wolfing out, though--stupid of me, to forget the Wolfsbane, and stupid of Sirius to kidnap the Weasley boy on the night of the full moon.  But anyway, Peter got away and made it back to Voldemort.

Skip forward a bit.  In the meantime, we have the Tri-Wizard Tournament, where Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory and a year of Harry having strange visions of His Evil Darkness, which culminated in Harry trying to rescue Sirius at the Ministry of Magic--even though Sirius was safe at home.  Sirius got himself killed in a petty family feud with Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry found out about the Prophecy, and Dumbledore decided it would be a good idea to send me as an emissary to the werewolves.

I could've told him it wouldn't work, but hey, he was covering my expenses while I worked for him, and who was I to turn down a few free meals?  Besides, I'm wrong sometimes.  All right, so I was wrong about the werewolves.  I ended up spending just over a year with a psychopath pack leader who didn't trust me, but I did get about two score of the wolves to agree to keep out of the fight.  Dumbledore'd wanted them on our side, but if they wouldn't fight _for_ us, at least they wouldn't be fighting _against_ us.

And then, just when I'd gone to report my successes, Death Eaters attacked the castle and that lying bastard Snape murdered Dumbledore.

 

So that brings us to the funeral, where I finally gave up and let Tonks sink her hooks into me, because it seemed a fitting punishment for having spent the last twenty years of my life hung up on a murderer.  She was walking around with her tacky pink hair again and I got a knowing look from Harry.  Made me itch to smack it off his face.  Little brat, he'll never know the sacrifices we all made to keep him safe and innocent.  Of course, we also thought Dumbledore was going to be taking care of turning Harry into the weapon we needed, and you know how well that went.  Dumbledore wouldn't even let us tell Harry about the bloody Prophecy until Sirius got himself killed trying to keep Harry innocent.

Sad, how most of what Dumbledore did was motivated by guilt instead of love, the way he always claimed.

Me?  Of course I'm bitter.  You watch your friends killed off one by one by a madman and find out the bloke you're obsessed with murdered your mentor, and see if you come out of it without any bitterness.  Fuck you.

 

Where was I?

Oh yeah, the funeral.

So after the funeral was over, Tonks planted a wet kiss on my cheek and asked if I wanted to come home with her.  I crooked an eyebrow at her (I knew I was borrowing from Snape, damn it, but I couldn't turn off my unhealthy obsession like a tap, could I?) and said it was a bit tacky to try to pull at a funeral.  That made her hair go all streaky with brown again but I couldn't be arsed about it.  I'd seen someone lurking around the back side of the crypt and I wanted to see what was up.

"Go on to the Burrow," I said, not looking at all apologetic.  "Molly's having a dinner for all the Order members.  I'll be there later."

I wouldn't, of course, but they could all think what they wanted.  I still hadn't worked out exactly how I was going to fuck Tonks, if I really was going to go through with this punishment.  I've never fucked a woman in my life--never wanted to--and while I know the whole put A in Slot B about straight sex, it's sort of difficult if your cock won't cooperate.

Anyway.

She left and I waited for the last few stragglers to go before I sneaked round the crypt and tackled the cloaked-and-hooded figure I found there.

"Fuck, Lupin, get off me!"

Was I surprised?  Fuck, yes, I was surprised.  Why would Snape be hanging about Dumbledore's crypt?

"Come to piss on it?" I snarled, not letting go of him.  Yeah, all right, so I was getting hard, fuck you.  Twenty _years_ of obsessing over the man, God!

"Fuck you!" he snarled back, and bloody hell, that just turned me on more.  I pushed him against the crypt and muttered a charm to push his hood off.  His dark eyes glittered as they met mine, but I saw no fear.  Despair, sure, and hatred, though I couldn't tell who it was aimed at.  But no fear.  I couldn't _smell_ fear, either, or sweat.

"Why are you here?" I asked, and yeah, I sounded a little more breathless and confused than I wanted to.

He didn't answer, just kept looking at me, so I did what any louse-ridden werewolf driven to the edge of reason from privation and grief would have done.

I kissed him.

His lips were hard, but they gave way to me.  His mouth was sour, our teeth clashed, but his tongue met mine with mad abandon, and I pressed up against him.  It was surprising, the way he wrapped his arms around me, but I didn't argue.  I just worked a knee in between his legs and rubbed my groin against his, not caring that we had a good four layers of cloth between us.  I growled, he groaned.  It was insane and wrong and overwhelming.

When we were done and I was staring in shock at the wet spot on the front of my trousers, he pushed me away from him with more gentleness than I'd expected.

"Either you're a fool or you've realised what happened," he said, and it pissed me off.

"Fool, actually," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and fighting down the urge to hex him.  He obviously wasn't a whole-hearted Death Eater, whatever else was true.

He sighed and shook his head.  "It was the Unbreakable Vow," he muttered.  "He made me swear--you can't think I wanted him dead, Lupin!  He was the only--"

"Yeah, yeah, your mentor, father-figure, blah blah," I said, and yeah, I admit it was a little heartless of me.

His eyes glittered with hatred again, and this time I reckoned some of it, at least, was for me.  "I didn't have a choice, werewolf!" he spat.  It was good, really, because we'd both sort of lost ourselves in that desperate snogging.

I shook myself and scratched at my scalp.  What?  You lie down with werewolves, you get up with lice.  It's the way of the world.  "So Dumbledore knew he was going to die."

"He knew I was going to kill him," Severus said.  "From me, he said it was a mercy, not murder.  It would protect Draco from becoming a murderer.  He's not totally unredeemable, the little swot.  Unbearable, but not unredeemable.  I've got him with me for the time being.  I'll send him to the Order eventually.  Once I've made sure he can't betray you."

"Who were you going to tell?" I asked.  Okay, yes, a stupid question, because it told him how much I wanted it to have been me.

"Shacklebolt," he said succinctly, and walked away.  Once he was at the Apparition border, he was gone.

 

You don't want to know about the weeks that passed after that.  They were boring, filled with things like the manhunt for Snape, Fleur and Bill Weasley's wedding, Molly Weasley prodding me a lot about Tonks, and Tonks looking really longing and wistful and girlish and all that bullshit that make gay men laugh.

I went back to the werewolves and discovered that Greyback had seen me at the castle during the battle.  He'd figured out I was a traitor and I was in the midst of being beaten when I managed to Apparate out of the pack and to the relative safety of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.  I holed up there for a few weeks, then Harry and his friends showed up.  It's hard to hide from teenagers, even in a house that size, so I got out while the getting was good and holed up in a safe house I'd helped set up in Kent.

Letting Tonks get her claws into me seemed suddenly like a stupid idea (well, it had been, all right, I admit it) so I wanted to stay as far away from her as possible.  All the same, after the wedding, when Molly asked how soon we could expect to see a ring on Tonks' finger, I gave an evasive non-answer, because I'm much better at passive-aggressive than I am confrontation.  What?  I've never claimed to be perfect.

Anyway, the kids, it turned out, were looking for Horcruxes (I keep telling them it ought, technically, to be Horcruces, but no one's interested in the bloke who's actually studied Latin, no, never mind how many exorcisms I've done, so I ought to know.)  I might never have heard about the Horcrux hunt except that I got a strange owl that said, "Tell Potter to look for the Muggle orphanage in London".  When I passed that message on, Harry lit up like a Goblin Candle and started jabbering about did I know anything about Horcruxes and did I know how to search for details in a Pensieve memory and would I go to London with him?

How could I say no?

That was how we ended up in a strange catacomb underneath the Sisters of Mercy orphanage in a Very Bad Part of Town, waste-deep in murky water and fighting off Inferi.  I'd never heard Harry shriek like a girl, and I hope never to hear that again.  Fire holds them off, though, and while I was disturbed to be setting on fire the bodies of people I'd known, twenty years earlier--people like Regulus Black and Caradoc Dearborn, chillingly enough--I was more than willing to do it if it would keep me and the three kids alive.

"Never again," I muttered as Harry went at the wall with a pickaxe.  I didn't think a pickaxe was a great idea, but he'd pointed out that if he accidentally hit the Horcrux, well, he was trying to kill it anyway, and I couldn't exactly argue with that line of reasoning.

"What?" Hermione asked.  Her hair was drenched and sticking to her face, but she looked surprisingly fierce in the flickering light of the flames.

"Nothing," I said, sending another jet of fire towards a gap where poor Regulus and a Death Eater I knew by sight were trying to get to us.

"He said Harry needs to give up with the pickaxe and let someone with real muscles take over," Ron put in.  He flexed his biceps for Hermione's benefit (at least I hope to God it was for Hermione's benefit and not mine, because I may be gayer than a May pole but Ron does _not_ set off the old gaydar in the least).

"Naff off," Harry grunted, swinging the pickaxe again.  I glanced over at him.  It wasn't charitable to say so, but I was inclined to agree with Ron.  Harry's always been a scrawny lad.

I sighed and jerked my head towards Harry, indicating Ron should take over.  Harry wasn't very gracious about how he surrendered the tool, but he was a dab hand at the fire spell, so that distracted him.

"Fuck, Regulus!" I groused, pushing the bodies back again.  Harry heard me that time.

"Regulus?  Isn't that--"

"Yeah, Sirius' brother," I said, setting the body on fire again.  "I shagged him once.  He was better looking then."

Harry looked appalled and I realised I'd never actually said anything to him before about being gay.  Oh well, he wasn't a kid anymore, really.  He had to know about that sort of thing.

"Oh...I'd rather thought you were with Sirius," Hermione volunteered, sending a blue flame jetting towards Caradoc.

I could've laughed.  "Nope.  Always had a thing for Slytherins.  It never works out."

"Ah.  I can understand that."

Harry gave _her_ the appalled look now.

"Well, you can't deny Draco's aesthetically appealing, even if he's a little git," she said.

I wanted to laugh more.  Instead I tensed as Ron grunted with a last mighty swing and the wall caved in behind us.  Obviously he didn't like hearing his bird talking about another bloke.  Even another bloke who was also, if my suspicions were correct, gayer than a May pole.

"Is it in there?" Harry asked, his voice eager.

"Yeah."  Ron didn't say anything else, though, so I sent a final gout of flame and then turned.  A very large spider was hunched over something that glimmered in the light of the flames.

"Fuck," Harry muttered.  Ron appeared to have been turned into stone.  I grabbed his shoulders and turned him around to face the Inferi again.

"Fire," I told him, and used a quick _Avada Kedavra_ on the spider.  I was hoping Harry still wasn't any good at that particular spell.  Me, I've had plenty of practice, unfortunately.  The spider fell over and I levitated it off the glimmering something.

Harry gave me a look that troubled me slightly, then clambered through the hole in the wall and held up a bracelet in triumph.  "Ravenclaw's bracelet!" he crowed.  "Now we just have to destroy it."

"He seems pretty sure of himself," I told Hermione.  "How does he know--"

"We've already destroyed Marvolo Gaunt's ring and Tom Riddle's diary and Slytherin's locket," Hermione replied.  "Well, Dumbledore destroyed the ring, actually.  We know Hufflepuff's cup is a Horcrux, but we're still trying to find it.  We'd narrowed the Ravenclaw artefact down to the bracelet or an inkwell that's gone missing, but obviously this is it."

"Then there's a Gryffindor Horcrux, as well?" I asked.

"Well, Dumbledore didn't seem to think so.  He's had the sword and the Sorting Hat for a long time, so--"

"Hermione!" Harry snapped, and she shut up.

I wondered why I could be trusted to go with them and hold off Inferi, but not with the details of the quest.  It was galling, but I didn't say anything.  Protesting your innocence too often only gets you more suspicion.  That's a lesson I learned early on in the first war.

"All right, I'll have to get it back to Number Twelve to finish the job," Harry muttered finally.  I was relieved; it was getting tiring, holding off these monsters with familiar faces.

We fought our way back out of the crypt.  At the door, I turned and muttered "_Holocaustum_, then sealed the entrance and left without watching the effects of my spell.

We earned some funny looks once we were at street level.  Even in Very Bad Parts of London, people don't generally walk around soaked to the waist and singed about the ears.  A few Memory Charms later, I'd got the other three back to Number Twelve and myself cleaned up enough to stop by a Chinese takeaway on my way back to the safe house.

 

I wasn't off the hook yet with Molly and Tonks, but since I'd as good as come out to Harry and his friends, I decided I might as well have it out with Tonks and finish the whole farce of me being a harmless straight bloke.  I was gay, a werewolf, and steeped in the Dark Arts--not to mention a talented scam artist.

That wasn't a pretty encounter.  I came out of it with several painful hexes and a silver-edged stormcloud following me and catching my backside with lightning bolts.  I'd earned that one; I'd made the mistake of saying, "At least there's a silver lining--you can sleep with Charlie Weasley without feeling guilty now!"  Yeah, sometimes my mouth gets the better of me, usually when months of passive-aggressive behaviour are catching up with me.

I suspect the lightning flashes were what made it easy for the Death Eaters--and eventually Snape--to find me.  Not that any of them were looking for me, but Tonks, the silly bint, had picked one of the worst spells she could have cast on me when I needed to do surveillance work.  Bad luck, that, but there you go.  I couldn't do anything about it.  A weather spell, cast in the heat of passion?  Impossible to clear up.  It has to just run its course.

So I was crouched in the best shelter I could find in the middle of a Scottish moor, with a Notice Me Not Spell and a Shroud of Darkness cast around me, but I'd run out of that Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder the Weasley twins usually supplied.  The Death Eaters had gathered as expected, but they'd hardly got down to business when another bolt of lightning struck my left arse cheek.  I bit back a swear word, but it wouldn't have mattered if I'd blasphemed at the top of my lungs; the Death Eaters had seen the flash of light, and they're a bloody suspicious lot.  Sort of have to be, don't they, considering they're Public Enemy Number...well, Two, after Voldemort.  Anyway.

They came running at me with a few choice swear words of their own, firing off hexes without bothering to see if I was friend or foe.  I set up a Shielding Spell but someone threw an Anti-Apparition Boundary up so I couldn't get away.  I could hear a woman shouting painful spells my way, and at least two men were arguing about something and alternately throwing hexes at me.  I countered them as gently as I could until one of the Cruciatuses got through.  I managed to keep to my feet by clinging to a small tree that shuddered under the force of my contortions, but I couldn't maintain my Shield with that sort of pain coursing through me.

_I'm fucked_, I thought.

Fortunately by that time Snape had found me, too.  "_Avada Kedavra_!  _Avada Kedavra_!" he called, his voice clear and unmistakable.  Fortunately the jets of green light hit the two men, so Snape wasn't aiming at me.

"Bloody hell, Lupin, can't you keep yourself out of trouble?"

"If _you_ know a way to get rid of the Hell Hath No Fury Hex, you're more than welcome to," I snapped back, in between gasping for breath.  The Cruciatus had lifted when one of the men toppled over.

Snape smirked through the darkness at me.  "Ah.  You finally told Miss Tonks you're queer."

"How'd you guess?"

Unfortunately we'd forgotten about Alecto Carrow.  Yeah, that's right, we're back up to that point.  She'd fallen to her knees over her brother's body (I found that out later, at the time I didn't know why she'd fallen), but when she ascertained that he really was dead (because hey, the Killing Curse has failed once; we live in hope), she shrieked that Snape was a traitor and leapt at us, throwing hexes at the same time.  He fell, caught off guard by one of the spells, and she landed on me just as I raised my wand.  A green flash of light later, I had dead weight pushing me into the ground.

"Snape?  Snape?  Are you all right?  Snape?"

He didn't answer at first, and I shoved frantically at the body, trying to get out from under her.  Then he struggled to his knees and turned to stare at me as I finally rolled Alecto Carrow's corpse off of me.  "I know what you're thinking," I snarled, glaring defensively back at him.  "Bodies don't normally get me hard or anything.  But face it, I'm a Dark creature, Snape.  _Danger_ gets me hard."

An odd gleam came into his eyes and he pounced on me, jabbing his wand into the side of my neck.  "Is that so, Lupin?" he hissed, his voice sibilant and arousing.  "Is that what draws you to me?  You know fucking me would be dangerous?"

"Something like that," I gasped, pressing against him and wrapping one arm around his waist.  "Are you hurt?"

He brushed off the question and ran a hand down my side, starting with my hair and running down my cheek, then my neck and shoulder and side, and ending on my arse.  "You're the one who was attacked by three of my compatriots," he murmured.  "I should think I ought to ask you that."

He didn't ask, of course.  Instead he reached down and undid my trousers, sliding a hand inside.  His fingers were cold, but that just added to the thrill as he squeezed my cock.  "My, Lupin, what a big prick you have."  His voice was arch, almost coy.  I found it irresistible.

"All the better to fuck you with," I promised, and showed him my teeth.

"I think not," he replied, and lowered his mouth to my cock.

I wasn't going to argue.  Besides, it might be interesting to see what would happen, if he was fucking me, if he got in the way of one of those lightning strikes.  I let my eyes roll up in my head as he sucked me off.

After I came, he hiked up his robes and I learned that Severus Snape doesn't wear anything under his robes.  That was an arousing thought.  I was vocal and enthusiastic as he fucked me hard, and he didn't even seem to notice that twice his firm, skinny arse got struck by lightning.

 

Afterwards, when he was still sprawled on top of me several minutes after his climax, I dared to drape both my arms around him, gingerly enough to claim I was only shifting position if he complained.  He didn't complain.

"The Dark Lord is gathering his strength," Snape muttered softly after a while.  It seemed easier, in the darkness of the Scottish night, to pretend we were there by choice, rather than the fact that he was the only man who would have me and I was the only person he found attractive enough who wouldn't hex him on sight.  "He's planning an attack at Hallowe'en, against the school.  I've tried to convince him there's no reason, with Potter not there, but he apparently wants to complete his triumph over..."  He trailed off for a moment.  "If I protest any further, he won't believe that I'm loyal to him, and he _must_ believe that I am loyal, if I am to be in position to kill Nagini at the crucial moment."

"Kill Nagini?" I asked.  "The snake?"

"Of course the snake.  Are you stupid?"  He sat up and began cleaning us up.

I glared at him in the darkness.  I suspect I could see better than he could, except during those brief lightning flashes.  "Why the snake?"

"She's one of the Horcruxes.  Or, at least, Al--the headmaster seemed to think so."

It was interesting, how Snape couldn't say his name any more than he could say Voldemort's name.  I wondered if it was because he loved the old man as much as he hated Voldemort, or simply because he hated himself.

"Harry got the Ravenclaw bracelet," I said.  "But I don't know if he's managed to destroy it yet or not."

"Good," Snape said grimly.  "That's four down.  I'm keeping an eye on Nagini so we just need to find the cup."

"We?"

"Of course we.  Are you stupid?"

This was becoming a tiresome refrain.  I stood up and tucked myself in, then pulled Severus to his feet.  "You need to be careful, Snape."

"Worry about yourself, Lupin," he retorted.

With a crack of Apparition, he was gone.

 

I don't know where they found the cup.  Harry and Ron went off by themselves because Ginny had been injured in a pick-up game of Quidditch with her brothers and Neville and Luna.  Hermione was staying with her until her leg finished mending.  I was walking around Number Twelve in a rain poncho and rubber boots, staying out of the library to keep from ruining the books.  Turns out those Hell Hath No Fury Hexes drop a lot of rain in a short amount of time, when they're running their course.  At least the lightning had weakened enough that the rubber boots kept me from serious injury.

Anyway, Bill told me--

Oh _fuck_!  I forgot to tell you that Bill and Fleur had offered a safe shelter to the werewolves who opted to stay out of the fight.  You definitely need to know this, partly because I'm a bloody hero, thank you very much, and partly because this is what ended up saving my life and Severus', and probably the whole side of the Light, for that matter.

 

At our debriefing after the Battle of Hogwarts, Bill and Fleur had offered to take in the werewolves who wanted out of the fight.  Bill wasn't going to be fighting for the Order anytime soon, obviously, not with his injuries, and the adjustments he was going to have to make after the partial werewolf curse.  They had plenty of room; a Gringotts cursebreaker's salary is pretty hefty, and he'd had enough to buy a tidy place with a wilderness on the back acres.  They could fence it in and keep themselves and their neighbours safe.

So just after Ginny hurt herself playing Quidditch, Bill told me he and Fleur were ready to key the wards that would keep the werewolves safe from Greyback and Voldemort and whoever else might be angry that they were sitting out the fight.  I said I would pass along the information, and that's where I was when Harry and Ron went after the cup and all Hell broke loose.

Sneaking into a werewolf camp isn't an easy thing to do, but I managed it, and I was on my way out when I heard multiple Apparition cracks.  I hunkered down in a safe spot, two of my friends guarding my back (well, from hexes; they couldn't exactly guard me from the lightning strikes, though they'd been pretty amused by them).  Greyback was one of the new arrivals, and Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange were the other three I recognised.

"I _told_ you all that Snape was a traitor!" Bellatrix was shrilling at them.  She had this wide, garish grin on her face that sent shivers down my spine.  "He was working for that old fool all along, and I was the only one canny enough to see that!  You fools!  You were always too blinded by your awe, or afraid of his sharp tongue!  But I!  I knew!"

"He's mad," Malfoy said, and swore.  "I can't believe he would side against us--his friends!  The fool.  The Dark Lord will kill him."

"The Dark Lord promised me that I could have him," Bellatrix crooned.  "I shall strip his skin from him while he lives, then break all his bones, one by one.  And if he yet lives after that...ohh, the fun I shall have!"

I shivered again, this time with my whole body.  My teeth were bared, and I wanted to jump her.  Fortunately I _am_ able to control my instincts, no matter what people like Dolores Umbridge think.  I hunkered down closer to the ground and started thinking a great number of swear words.  One of the wolves at my back growled, but he didn't say anything.  He could tell from my posture how angry I was.

"If he hadn't gone mad and killed the snake, I don't think any of us would have realised it," Rodolphus said.  "Perhaps someone had him under an Imperius.  After all, Bella's mad cousin always enjoyed using the Unforgivables against us."

Malfoy inspected his fingernails.  "Someone use Imperius on _Severus Snape_?" he said, his voice all polite incredulity.

I was thinking the same thing, only less politely.  Snape was a Master Occlumens.  There was no bloody way anyone could use Imperius on him.  And he'd killed Nagini.  From his speech a fortnight earlier, though, I'd understood he meant to do that at the last minute, when the attack was on the cusp of taking place.

A full-body chill hit me.  His information had been wrong!  The attack wasn't on Hallowe'en, it was tonight!  That's why he'd killed Nagini.  And he'd been caught at it, and was probably railing against the Dark Lord and trying to think of a way to warn us.  I didn't know where they were, though.  Fuck.  How could I find him soon enough?  Where would they be holding him?

I turned to one of the wolves near me.  "I need to get out of here," I told him.  "Can you distract the Death Eaters without getting hurt?"

He nodded and loped off, then circled around to Greyback.  I didn't hear what he murmured to the pack leader, but the big rangy werewolf swore and glanced around.  "Come on!" he said.  "You need to get back to the Dark Lord and prepare for the attack.  I'll round up my pack and we'll meet you at the school grounds."

That confirmed my suspicions.  Of course they would attack tonight.  It was the full moon tonight.  Bill and Fleur had wanted the wolves to have time to get settled in today.  Fleur had turned out to be a skilled brewer, and they had enough Wolfsbane to keep the wolves at ease.  Fuck.  Forgot to tell you that, too, didn't I?  Anyway, that's why it made sense that the attack would be then.

Once the Death Eaters were gone, I dashed out of hearing range from the camp and Apparated a safe distance away.  I concentrated on happy thoughts, and unsurprisingly my memories of learning Severus hadn't really murdered Dumbledore and the hard, needy kisses we'd exchanged were what enabled me to send off my Patronus in search of Severus.

Hopefully if Severus knew I was aware of what was going on, if he knew I would come for him, he'd be able to summon a Patronus of his own.  Then I busied myself with getting the warning to the Order.

 

It's amazing what a suspicious lot the Order members are.  It took me too much time to convince them that the school was going to be under attack, even though I didn't even have to bring Severus into the explanation at all.  Eventually, though, I had Moody and a contingent of Aurors dispatched to the school and Hermione off after Harry and Ron.  Harry could end it all tonight, she said, if he'd found the last Horcrux.  I pulled her aside just before she left and told her she wouldn't have to worry about Nagini.

She stared at me a long time, then finally closed her mouth and nodded.

I was surprised when Severus' Patronus appeared; it was a swift, sharp-eyed bird of prey.  It told me he was being held in a very unpleasant chamber in Inverness Castle.  Really, Voldemort could be incredibly unimaginative at times.

I had several advantages.  One was that my senses are already keener than a human's.  Another was that if I could make it to Inverness before the moon rose, they would be at their peak while I was in a human body.  Of course, the flip side of that was that if I didn't make it to Severus before moonrise, I'd be trapped in a body that was strong, powerful, and capable of running long distances without tiring...but incapable of casting spells or freeing a man from bonds.

I Apparated, praying the moon would be slow.

Inverness Castle, to the Wizards, is completely different to what Muggles think it is.  Muggles think the castle in the city centre of Inverness is the real Inverness Castle.  The real castle is the one that Malcolm supposedly razed after Macbeth murdered his father.  In truth, Macbeth was a Muggle, and Malcolm simply set up defensive spells to keep any more bastards like Macbeth from murdering the rest of his kin.  Setting up the decoy castle was a stroke of brilliance, considering how many times the decoy has been sacked or partially destroyed; Wizards have continued to use Inverness Castle since the 1100s.  What?  You'd know that if you'd read _The Rise and Decline of the Wizarding World_.  Just because you never paid attention in History of Magic.  Oh, fuck, all right, so I'm a research nerd.  Shut your gob.

So it was to the real Inverness Castle that I made my way, after Apparating to a safe spot in the city.  I had to move fast, but I knew Voldemort would have guards on Snape.  It's not as if Severus Snape would be an easy man to hold captive.  He'd been Voldemort's Right Hand since the Tri-Wizard Tournament.  And I knew, though Voldemort might not, that someone as talented at Legilimency as Severus would be able to trick his guards into letting him go, so he would also need to be chained.  My cock took an interest in the idea of Snape in chains, but I informed it this was no time to get uppity.

It wasn't difficult to get inside.  There were wards, but I'm a Dark creature, and that always helps with this sort of ward.  The ones set against Aurors are easy for me; the troublesome wards are the ones designed to keep out things that go bump in the night.  I _did_ have some Peruvian Darkness Powder with me this time, but I was hoping not to have to use it, since it would cripple Snape's ability to escape if I used it.  I made my way through the dark corridors, keeping a watch for guards.

There were none.  I couldn't believe my luck.  Where were the guards?  There would have to be something!  But the corridors were empty of all life, whether human or werewolf.  Then I went down a long set of stairs, reckoning that Severus would be in the dungeons, and a wave of cold rolled over me.

Fuck.  Dementors.

If I went in there wielding my Patronus, they'd know I was coming.  If I went in without it, there was a good chance I wouldn't be able to hold it.  I paused, but I could feel the thrumming in my blood that said I only had a few more hours until moonrise.

I'll pause right here to say that I know you want to know how I could've forgotten about moonrise when Sirius and I were facing down Peter.  Well, fuck you.  One time in thirty years I screw up and it haunts me forever.

Anyway, I conjured my Patronus.  I knew it might bite me in the arse, but I didn't have a choice.  I needed the protection it offered.  And who knew how deep in despair Severus might be?  He'd killed his mentor, after all, one of the few people who'd ever given him a chance.  He had to be feeling rotten about that, no matter how he acted.  I remembered how he couldn't even speak Albus' name, and hurried.

The Dementors came at me from two directions when they appeared.  Several of them had let me get past them, perhaps hoping they could reach me before my Patronus circled around.  But my Patronus is a snake, and when she needs to, she stretches to surround me entirely.  She circled me when they appeared, providing a ring through which they couldn't reach me.  All the same, I began to run.

"Severus!" I shouted.  I didn't hear anything in response, but it didn't mean anything.  He had to be down here, if the Dementors were here.

I had never tried the Killing Curse against Dementors, but I wasn't above trying it.  I couldn't send my Patronus to him, but I kept calling his name, and eventually I heard a weak, muffled response.

 

He _was_ chained up.  God, that was sexy.  I ran over to him, grateful I hadn't transformed yet.  "Are you hurt?" I asked, using nonverbal Diffendos to cut through the chains.  Thank God it wasn't silver; my spells would be useless against silver.  Apparently Voldemort hadn't known Severus had a werewolf helping him.

He lifted his head sluggishly.  "Yes."  His voice was stark, but hoarse, as if he'd been screaming earlier.  I cut through one chain and his arm dropped as if it were too much work to hold it up.

"Where are the Dementors?" I asked him.

"Your Patronus is holding them off at the entrance," he murmured. One eye was swollen mostly shut, but he directed his gaze over my shoulder.  "An interesting Patronus, by the way."

It encouraged me that he felt well enough to criticise.  I shrugged.  "It's never changed," I said.  "Been a snake since 1978 when I learned it.  I reckon it means I should've been in Slytherin."

He chuckled weakly.  "We would have torn you apart."

"Quite probably," I agreed, finally cutting through the second chain.  He slumped forward and I caught him in my arms.  "Come on.  I need to get you out of here.  Are there Anti-Apparition wards?"

"No.  He didn't think I'd be able to Apparate, after they snapped my wand."  He kicked at something on the uneven dungeon floor that proved to be the small pieces of his wand.

"Fuck."  I looked down at it.  "I'm sorry, Severus."

He shrugged.  "I have two."  He gestured towards his groin, where his robe was slightly tented.  "The Dark Lord and his followers are distinctly homophobic.  They never check there."

I stared until he laughed and reached under the robe, pulling out a wand that couldn't have been more than five inches long.  "Ollivander slipped it to me before he was killed," he explained.  "I'd tried to save him, but all I was able to do, in the end, was give him a painless death.  All the same, he was grateful."

"I suppose so," I said, studying the wand.  "His last one, then?"

"His last," Snape agreed.  "Why don't you get us out of here, Lupin."  It wasn't a question.

We Apparated to that safe house I'd been occupying.  I filled him with healing potions and ordered him to stay put, and then I went to help defend the school, arriving at the edge of the school grounds just in time to transform.

 

I didn't see Severus again for two days.  The night of the full moon passed in a blur of battle haze and blood.  I couldn't do magic, but I could still fight, with jaws and teeth and claws, and fight I did.  I knew I was responsible for several of the dead werewolves, whose bodies remained mercifully transformed when the sun rose the next day.  I'd taken out Peter, too, despite his silver hand.  I took a few minor injuries, but werewolf metabolism is a wonderful thing, and I healed of those quickly.  Unfortunately I couldn't quite escape the general lethargy that always takes over after the full moon, and I slept the day away in the Hogwarts infirmary.

One good thing the transformation accomplished was to kill the Hell Hath No Fury Hex.  Cast by a human woman, the spell was confused when confronted with a werewolf as its target.  The Dementors had weakened it, as they suck the strong emotions out of things, and the transformation destroyed it entirely.  So when I woke in the hospital wing, I was mercifully dry and free of electricity for the first time in nearly a month.

I watched the reflected flashes from the windows as Weasleys Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs went off in the sky over the school.  Voldemort, I soon learned, had been killed.  Harry and his two friends were in the beds down the ward from mine--the ones that were partitioned off by drapery.  After I convinced Poppy I was sufficiently recovered to be released, she let me visit them.  Harry had collapsed just after killing Voldemort, and Ron and Hermione had taken serious injuries protecting him after that.  All three were expected to make full recoveries, though Harry hadn't yet woken from his exhausted sleep.

I didn't stay long.  I had unfinished business at a safe house in Kent.

 

 

"Fuck, Lupin!"  Snape pushed me back against the wall, grinding into me.  His cock was hard, pressed into my thigh, and mine was responding nicely.  I grabbed him, kissing him hard, and ground my cock against his.

Yeah, we're back here again.  I've figured you out by now, you know.  You're a bloody perv, want to know what Severus and I get up to behind closed doors.  Well, far be it from me to deny you your pleasure.

He pounced on me the moment I Apparated into the safe house.  He'd obviously recovered and eaten several meals and had a shower, and he was restless, eager for news, and eager for me.

It was a good greeting.

I told him, between kisses, that Voldemort was dead, Draco safe, the Order triumphant, and he responded by shouting Voldemort's name at the top of his lungs.  It startled me, but not as much as the fact that he then turned and bore me against the wall, groping my arse.  I wasn't going to look a gift shag in the mouth, though, so I gave as good as I got, noticing that he was thinner than he had been the first time I held him in my arms, and vowing to fatten him up again.  I didn't even wonder, at the time, if I'd be able to hold onto him long enough to fatten him up, that's how good I was feeling.

We spent a lot of time just kissing, holding each other.  It was nice.  I was surprised how nice it was.  But eventually our desperation built up, and we nearly ripped each other's clothes off, getting naked together.  All the same, we took the time to really look at each other this time.  He had scars I wouldn't have imagined, and his hip bones jutted out, which I remembered from when he fucked me, but he wasn't hard on the eyes.  I like my men to have character and wit, and I'm not going to quibble over whether they've won _Witch Weekly_'s Best Smile Award.  I've never liked my men too pretty.  It's why I only shagged Regulus Black the one time, and why I've been obsessed with Severus Snape for better than twenty years.

Severus would have won that Best Smile award, if I'd had anything to say about it.  Just the fact that he was smiling at me at all was almost enough to have me swooning like a girl.  He shoved me back against the wall again and bit my neck, and it was obvious he wanted to fuck me upright.  I thought about insisting I be the one to do the fucking this time, but then I considered that the man had just been freed from nearly a lifetime of servitude, and I decided I didn't mind catching twice in a row.  Besides, he was a good fuck.

He was kissing and licking my chest, sucking and teething at nipples and squeezing my cock ungently, and all I could do was roll my head back and groan.  Merlin, he had a talented mouth.  I stroked his shoulders and back, and groped his arse pretty thoroughly, and then he shoved me back against the wall again and he was muttering against my chest.  I felt the cool slickness inside me, and then his cock was shoving in, and God! did it feel good.  I moaned his name and clung to him, and wrapped one leg around his hips.  He started a good steady rhythm, but a funny thing happened.

I brought my hands up to cradle his face, and gasped, "Severus," and he groaned and lost control entirely.  Severus Snape is stronger than he looks.  He fucked me _hard_ against that wall, and between the heat and the something else in his eyes and the angle he was at, pressing my prostate with every thrust, he didn't even have to touch my cock before I came with a shout on our stomachs.  He finished off pretty soon after that, and then we slid to the ground in a tangled heap of limp, sweaty limbs.

"Remus," he murmured, and kissed my jaw, and that's when I knew he was going to stay.

 

So that's that.  Nothing much more to say.  He stayed, and I stayed, and Harry agreed that we should have the house in Kent.  There was no need for safe houses any more, after all.  Severus wasn't exactly pardoned, but considering the extenuating circumstances, he was given life on probation, under my supervision.  When I'm feeling wicked I tell him that means he has to submit to me, but he seems to enjoy that, so it isn't really a punishment for him.

What?  Oh, drat, he's coming back in from the garden.  He won't like it if he catches you here.

Go on, get out.


End file.
